


Just A Moment

by VanderlustWords (MissMonsters2)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Sex, F/M, Harry Potter is in love with Hermione Granger, Harry Potter realizes how much Hermione Granger means, Heavy pining, Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Porn with Feelings, Romance, Smut, Tent Sex, mayhaps mutual pining, they fucked in the tent at least once don't lie to me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:54:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28786779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMonsters2/pseuds/VanderlustWords
Summary: It was just a moment, really. The nights were getting colder and lonelier. It was just a moment of weakness, desperation for some kind of warmth.That's what Harry tells himself.He just wanted a reminder they were still alive, that's all.  Because the other alternative was admitting he was in love with Hermione Granger, and he can't.// Takes place in DH during the Horcrux hunt.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Comments: 17
Kudos: 159





	Just A Moment

**Author's Note:**

> My biggest flex is always entering a fandom incredibly late. Fingers cross this ship ain't dead because it's the only one that makes sense to me. I'm emo-tional about them.

Ron was gone. 

Ron was gone, and he left a decent-sized hole of betrayal and hurt.

Harry knows it was mostly just the locket, Ron having worn it too long. The words exchanged in heated anger were not said with purposeful truth. 

And yet, that didn't subside his anger at the abandonment of his life-long friend. Best friend. 

Because Ron was really gone and left him and Hermione behind without any hint of him returning.

After all, Harry has lost count of how many days it's been since Ron left.

And while Harry used his anger to anchor him down, Hermione was unbelievably, deeply sad--probably a little pissed as well. 

His fingers flexed at his sides, remembering how she had felt his arms as he terribly danced with her, twirled her around, allowed himself to be twirled in hopes to get her to laugh. 

Hermione was warm as she always was, and she smelled like home. 

_No_ , Harry willed himself to think about other things. 

Things like Ginny. 

Ginny, who is lovely and laughs about the same things he does. She's a wonderful distraction, a distraction he broke up with before going on this harsh mission, but still wonderful nonetheless. 

But even if Harry tries to tell himself to think about other things, his mind wanders back about Hermione.

Harry can hear shuddered breaths inside the tent, doing his best to ignore it as Hermione would perhaps like. But he starts to wonder when he became so hyperaware of the girl inside. 

Maybe it was something between the Yule Ball and just a little after his relationship with Cho falling apart. It's hard to tell when he spends much of his time with Hermione. Feelings begin to bleed together, never really having a start or a finish. 

_And they can't ever start_ , Harry reminds himself. Because as much as Harry has become aware of the wonderful woman Hermione was becoming, she was locked in this strange dance with his best mate.

Of course, Harry wished Ron would open his bloody eyes to see how lucky he was to have a woman like Hermione want him. 

Hermione, who, yes, could be a little annoying at times and also had trouble relaxing and letting herself have fun. But also kind, passionate, caring, smart, and utterly loyal to a fault. 

Harry knows because his little hyperawareness of her has him realizing that Hermione has always put him above everyone else. 

Even Ron. 

And now, Hermione, who has put him before everyone else, was inside the tent crying. 

Harry tried to still himself as he sat outside, the harsh wind blowing as the days were cold and the nights even colder. 

They still slept in shifts to ensure they were alert for danger. The encounters with the Snatchers were too close for comfort, and Harry could not afford to allow such danger to sneak upon them. 

As he listened to the muffled sobs inside, Harry clenched his eyes shut. He wished he had taken his studies more seriously. Of course, he always had a natural aptitude when it came to magic, but he still wished he had done to the best of his abilities to expand his knowledge.

Maybe then he'd be stronger, and they wouldn't have to constantly be in shifts alone, and he could actually bloody do something about the tears Hermione was shedding. 

Harry looks down at the locket he's been wearing for the last couple of hours. He offered to take it so Hermione could have some peaceful hours of sleep before her shift, though it seems regardless of the locket, she was not getting sleep anytime soon. 

He was tired, Harry grimaced, feeling the unwanted anger surge up about Ron again. 

Did Ron not think Harry was at his rope's end too? That he wasn't tired, hungry, and missing his warm bed?

For that matter, did Ron not think Hermione felt the same way? 

It was getting more and more hopeless as the days passed and with little to no luck finding more Horcruxes. Harry was free to admit that he didn't know what the fuck he was doing. He just felt that this was the best way of defeating Voldemort at the time. 

And yet, despite the harsh conditions of their travels, it was Hermione who stood side-by-side with him, as she always had. It was Hermione who was studying and finding a plan for him.

And now, it was still her who was trying to quietly sob into her pillow to not worry him.

Harry opened his eyes to glance down at his watch on his wrist. 

It was only an hour left before Hermione would switch with him, but Harry doesn't think he could listen to Hermione's stifled cries that long. 

Harry releases a deep breath as he recasts his wards further out to alert him of any movements coming close to their camp. He does it diligently with care before he gets up and enters the tent quietly. The crying is more noticeable inside without the walls and harsh wind outside. 

Entering their bedroom, Harry finds Hermione sleeping in her tiny bed, blanket up to her chin as her face is pressed against the pillow. Her shoulders wrack, and Harry feels his stomach drop. 

Hearing was one thing, but seeing it was entirely something else, and Harry has to momentarily control himself from doing something maddening like un-suppressing his feelings.

The small noise seems to jolt Hermione as she turns and sees Harry standing there. She leans up onto an elbow, the blanket falling from her shoulder as she uses her other hand to wipe at her wet eyes.

"Harry?" She softly speaks, a tinge of confusion laced in her tone. "What time is it? Is it my turn alrea--"

"No," Harry quietly cuts her off. "There's still another hour." He walks over, situating himself on the floor next to her bed as he grabs her delicate hands in his. It's chilly even with his thick jumper, but Hermione was warm. 

She made him feel warm. 

"But what about--"

"I cast the wards out further, and I'll be alerted if anyone even breathes against it. I can hold it for an hour," Harry cuts her off again, and Hermione gives him an unsure tiny smile. 

Hermione starts to shift her hands so she could stroke his hands in small circles. 

"I'm sorry," she finally says, sniffling to clear her nose. 

"It's okay to be sad," Harry tells her.

"I'm--I'm not _sad_ ," Hermione denies but huffs when Harry gives her a look.

"Fine, I'm a little sad, but mostly _angry_ ," Hermione frowns, her jaw sharpening as she clenches her teeth. "I'm so unbelievably angry. How could Ron--How could he--"

"I know," Harry realizes he keeps cutting off Hermione, but she can't seem to find the words, and he wants her to know he understands and that she doesn't have to explain her hurt to him.

It falls silent with nothing but the sharp wind blowing against the tent. Harry simply sits there with Hermione, letting her stroke the back of his hand. 

"Harry, you're freezing," Hermione frowns as his hands slowly become chilled, and she touches his cool cheek. 

Harry shrugs. Though he may be physically cold, he still feels warm inside as Hermione holds his hands.

Hermione sighs as if he's hopeless, and perhaps he is, Harry thinks, as she scoots further back of her bed. She lifts her blanket and looks at Harry expectantly. 

"Well, c'mon now," Hermione nods her head for him to get under the blanket with her when she sees him hesitate. "If you're going to put up your best wards for an hour to comfort me, you're hardly going to be able to do that frozen on the floor or far away in your own bed."

Harry merely swallows as he gets up and slowly climbs into her bed. He can already feel the warmth seeping into him as he touches where she was lying. Once he's properly situated in her bed, Hermione folds the blanket over him, pulling it up just under her chin. 

Hermione doesn't hesitate to bury herself into his arms, pulling over of them over her waist as she presses the side of her cheek against his chest before wrapping her arms around him to warm him up.

Harry finds his heart thudding harshly in his chest, and he hopes Hermione blames it on the cold. He finds himself breathing deeply before he allows his arms to wrap back around her as he buries his face in her hair. 

Hermione smells like honeysuckle, and it calms him in a way that is much too ridiculous. 

"I'm so tired," Hermione says against his chest, and Harry can feel a wet spot forming on his jumper. "And so frustrated."

"I know," Harry says, the back of his throat burning as he holds her tighter because he knows she is. He's also the cause of this, but he's entirely too selfish to let her leave him too. "I'm sorry."

Hermione pulls back, eyes red and lined with tears but her brows furrowed angrily as she regards him. _"Harry James Potter,"_ she huffs at him. "Don't you dare apologize to me. _Of course_ , I would stay. No matter how bad it gets, I'll stay. If you apologize for that, I'll hex you."

Harry just closes his eyes, now feeling the back of his eyes burn but willing it to stay dry because it's not quite fair to also cry when Hermione's crying. The manly thing to do would be at least to take turns.

"I'm...sorry?" He mumbles, grinning lightly when Hermione laughs against his chest.

"It's so stupid," Hermione says after a moment, "I feel like I'm taking this really personally even though he abandoned the both of us."

Harry doesn't say anything because he knows Hermione isn't done, so he just lies there, trying to enjoy her warmth as she talks about Ron. 

"I just--" Hermione huffs again. "How could he expect me to go with him? To leave you too? How could he ever believe that I would do that? And then he makes it sound like I've betrayed him by staying."

The words, _'Of course, you choose him,'_ ring in his head as he shifts to press Hermione closer. 

"He was just being an arsehole, nothing new," Harry can't tell if he was weakly defending Ron or insulting him, but it gets Hermione chuckling again, tickling his skin as he can feel her breath through his jumper. 

"I just," Hermione takes in a painful breath. "I just didn't think that someone could make me feel so alone."

And Harry can hear all the unspoken words in what Hermione says. All the unsaid emotions she feels, and she's not just referring to Ron's recent actions. He's always been good at reading between the lines with Hermione. Just as she is with him. 

He swallows again. Just like all the other things in his life, he comes face to face with another decision.

It's just the cold getting to him, Harry convinces himself. They've been out here alone for so long, and it feels like they're on the verge of potentially dying every day. He just wants to feel like they're alive, even if it's just for a moment. Harry just wants Hermione to know that he appreciates her and that she's not alone, just for a moment. 

Harry presses his fingers deeper into Hermione before he backs up slightly, catching her teary face again. 

"You're not alone," Harry says, lifting his hand to wipe the tears away. "I know I'm a complete git at times, and I should tell you this more often, but I appreciate you _so much_ , 'mione."

More tears seem to leak out of Hermione's eyes for some reason, and Harry uses his thumb to wipe them again. 

"I don't know how I would've survived all these years without you," Harry shakes his head, hair rubbing against the pillow they were sharing. "You're absolutely brilliant."

Hermione snorts like she doesn't believe him, but Harry is firm.

"No, Hermione," Harry says as seriously as he can so she can understand. "You're smart and so passionate about everything you do."

"You and Ron get annoyed by it," Hermione rolls her eyes, but Harry shakes his head.

"No more than when you get annoyed when I'm a stubborn, hot-headed arsehole," Harry tells her. "Even when we're annoyed, it doesn't make those things less true about you."

Hermione doesn't say anything, and Harry purses his lip.

"You _are_ an incredibly attractive girl, Hermione. I've known that since seeing you at the Yule Ball," Harry confessed, hoping it will make Hermione understand and feel appreciated. 

"Harry, you don't need to try to make me feel better about myself on those things," Hermione shakes her head. "I know exactly that I'm not every wizard's type. I'm not the girl who is desirable--"

Harry takes five seconds of courage, the courage the got him sorted into Gryffindor in the first place, and flashes forward, capturing Hermione's lips.

Soft.

Unbelievably soft, Harry's first thought is. The second thought is that she tastes sweet, like the piece of candy she had for dinner earlier. 

Hermione doesn't move, and Harry pulls back, slightly breathless. She's merely staring at him, no reaction on her face. Well, maybe slight shock and confusion. 

"You _are_ desirable," Harry firmly tells her. "Merlin, only a blind person could get away with not thinking you're--"

But Harry doesn't get to finish his sentence this time when Hermione rushes back to press her lips against his. It feels like the wind is being knocked out of his lungs as surprise takes him. It doesn't take him a second longer before he's pushing back with the same eagerness, pulling Hermione close against his body. 

Harry doesn't want to think about what it means, about why Hermione would be kissing him back. 

Maybe it's the cold and loneliness and heartbreak having finally caught up to her. Maybe it's the need to feel something. Maybe it's just a moment for her too. 

Harry kisses her with unbridled passion, all those pent up feelings pouring out and into the kiss. He catches her bottom lip, biting gently before he sucks, arousal shooting immediately to his pants when Hermione's breath hitches before a soft moan emerges. 

When they pull back, they stare at each other, breathless and panting to catch air. Hermione lifts her hand and gently takes off Harry's glasses, setting them gently aside. She hesitates for a moment before she fiddles for the locket, taking it off around his neck as she puts it underneath the pillow but close by. Harry instantly feels lighter without it on, can feel the full emotions of what he's doing now. He's terribly blind, but he can see every detail of Hermione's face with how close he is. Her every freckle and lash, and _Merlin_ , she's captivating. 

Maybe he's staring too long because Hermione suddenly looks unsure and about to say something, but Harry suddenly lifts his hips, rolling over her as he lays on top.

Her hands automatically press against his shoulders as he holds her. Leaning down, he captures her into another kiss. This one is more gentle than their last, more slow. 

Maybe it really is the cold because Harry can't help but feel desperate to feel warmer--to feel her. His hands drag down until his hands hit the hem of her shirt, dancing between the fabric and her skin. Hermione wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to encourage his actions, and Harry takes it. His hands slide underneath her shirt, dragging along her side and back. 

Hermione isn't wearing a bra since it was bedtime, and Harry caresses the bare skin there. She shivers lightly against him. His hands have been warmed since climbing into bed and holding her, but she can feel the callous tips of his fingers. Hermione can be brave too, and she knows it when she moves her hand back down his shoulders and chest. Her hands find the edge of his jumper before moving underneath. 

Harry had never been particularly muscular, but with the amount of activity he does like Quidditch and running for his life, he's got lean muscles and defined enough abs. 

Moving her lips against Harry as she caresses him, she feels something hard against her thigh, and she doesn't doubt that Harry finds her desirable anymore. 

When the need for air becomes too much, Harry pulls back, clenching his eyes shut. He feels himself straining against his pants and wonders if this is too much. 

But suddenly, Hermione is hands are back from under his jumper, gripping at the fabric. He opens his eyes to find Hermione staring intently at him. She's got her legs tangled in his with seemingly no indication she's going to let him get off her. 

"Hermione," he says quietly, a little strained from trying to hold back his desire. 

Hermione gets even braver, and Harry gets another look at why she was sorted into the same house as him. Grabbing the edge of her shirt in a criss-cross manner, she pulls and lifts it off her body, her back arching as she does. 

The shirt gets discarded on the floor as Hermione wills herself to not cover her body up before Harry, cheeks and nose flushing as she stares at him. "I...you can touch me," she says softly, clenching the bedsheets at her side.

And any restraint Harry had tempering his desire to possess completely flies out the window as he gazes at her naked top.

_"Merlin,"_ he whispers as he drops back down to kiss her, his fingers gripping her hips before they start to trail up her bare sides again. Hermione feels the urge hit her as she fumbles at the hem of Harry's jumper, pulling it until they're forced to break the kiss to pull it over his head and let it follow along with her shirt. 

_Too much clothes,_ Harry thinks as he gets on his knees, grabbing at the waist of her pajama bottoms. He shoots Hermione a look of permission, and when she nods her head, he pulls the apparel off until she's left in her knickers. 

Hermione wonders if it's stupid to wish she had worn something lacier, but Harry doesn't even seem to notice as he crawls back up her body. 

When he presses himself against her, Hermione hums in pleasure, feeling her naked chest press against his. Harry kisses her briefly, savoring her lips for a moment before he starts trailing kisses along her jaw before he drops to her neck. 

A moan and a shift of her hips pleases Harry as he licks and sucks at the skin there. 

Hermione feels the slow torture Harry descends upon her as he continues to make marks down her neck and just above her breasts. Nothing is really happening, and she feels like she's going to go crazy when she feels him adjust against her before he roughly grinds against her. His hardness rubbing against her thinly covered sex.

Harry's absolutely taking his time, and Hermione thinks she must be crazy. She's in bed, slowly being worshipped by Harry, and she doesn't know what to make of it except it feels good. _She_ feels good, and she wants _more_.

Sliding his hand over, Harry takes her breast in his hand, and Hermione let out a quiet moan, arching into his warm palm as he squeezes and massages her. He kisses down the valley of her chest, moving over until his mouth is against her hardened nipple. Taking the nub in his mouth, he sucks, his tongue swirling around it before flicking it. 

Hermione's hips buck, only causing more friction between her legs with his erection. She's gripping his shoulders tightly. Dear Merlin, if she felt this good now, she was terrified about what Harry was going to do to her. 

Ginny had talked in passing about her bedroom activities with Harry, and Hermione had lost her virginity two summers to a neighborhood boy back home when Ron didn't seem to be making any moves towards her, even after his jealous outrage at the Yule Ball. 

But it hadn't felt as good as this. 

She hadn't felt this desired by anyone. Harry was kissed her like she was everything. He rutted against her like he couldn't wait to touch her, that he couldn't waste another moment. 

It made her a wet mess. 

Harry continued to trail his lips down her body, never lifting them off her skin for a moment as he kisses her stomach and pelvis. As he got to the edge of her knickers, Hermione felt a shot of nervousness down her spine. 

"You can tell me to stop at any time," Harry said against her skin, kissing her gently, and Hermione just wanted to burst with an unknown emotion.

Hermione shook her head but realized she needed to verbally say it. "No," she breathed. "Don't stop. I want it."

Harry kissed the skin underneath his lips again before using his fingers to hook her garments, pulling them down her legs. She was wet, it was evident by her stain in her knickers, and Harry felt excited. 

The cold air hit her bare sex, causing her to shiver. Her stomach with knotted with tension and need for something she wasn't sure what exactly she wanted yet. 

Harry tossed the garment without care as he returned his attention back. He started with kissing her inner thighs, sucking the skin there without leaving marks as he made it way closer and closer to the apex between her legs.

Hermione seemed to be neatly keeping herself trimmed during this trip, maybe feeling like it was just another thing she could control while in the unknown with him. He could feel the heat of her radiating off onto him, and Hermione was flushed as he was face-to-face with the most intimate part of her body. 

She was about to say something when Harry stuck his tongue out, flattening against her sex as he licked his way up through her slick folds. 

_"Oh, god,"_ Hermione choked, arms flying over her eyes as her hips jumped, kept from going too far by Harry having wrapped his arms around her thighs to keep her down. 

His tongue was hot, and it was setting a fire across her body. 

This entire trip had been cold, and Hermione felt the chill at all times. But with the way Harry was lapping her up, the tip of his tongue circling and flicking her clit, Hermione felt like she was on fire. Her skin was burning, and her cheeks and chest flushed beyond reasonable measure.

"Christ, Hermione--" Harry moaned against her, his fingers gripping her thighs tighter. "You taste so good."

Hermione was too flushed, felt too good to even respond, not that Harry was expecting one. 

Harry felt like he was going to literally explode from his pants. Hermione tasted...Merlin, there was no way to describe it. She was slick and somewhat sweet, and somewhat sharp. 

His heart was thudding in his chest, and hearing Hermione panting and moaning when he touched her didn't help. His eyes peered up to find her arms lifted over her eyes, hands clenched into fists as she allowed herself to be pleasured by him. 

The sight alone almost made him come, but he took a shuddering breath before he latched his lips on her clit. 

_"Ah!"_ Hermione sharply inhales. Her legs are trembling, and her hands make their way down to bury themselves in Harry's hair, gripping him and trying to control herself from bucking into his face. 

His tongue narrows as he slides down with more precision and Hermione's a whimpering mess. Harry's tongue teases her opening, sliding with the right amount of pressure every time he passes it. 

"Harry--" Hermione moans. She can feel the heat building, and it's building quick. The coil in her stomach is getting tighter and tighter; she just needs--

The tip of Harry's tongue circles back at her clit as he starts to apply a steady pressure against it. Hermione's fingers grip harder at his hair as her whole body begins to shake. She can feel herself clenching at the nothingness but Harry's slowly curling the tip of his tongue against her hardened nub, flicking at it without lifting once, twice, and then on the third, she comes apart, gushing on his tongue. 

Her back arches, an unrestrained deep moan falling from her mouth as she comes. She falls back on the bed, coming slowly down from her high as Harry released her from his mouth and crawls up her body. He kisses her, and she tastes herself on his tongue, and it's incredibly lewd, but Hermione moves her lips against his eagerly, tongue swirling with his. 

Merlin, he's working her into another frenzy as Harry stroking her bare body. Hermione wants more, and it's bloody unfair that she's completely naked underneath him. 

Hermione breaks the kiss, unabashedly reaching for his pants, and begins to pull down along with his boxers. His erection springs out as the rest of his clothes are discarded and forgotten. 

She swallows.

Harry's big, or at least bigger than what she lost her virginity to. Her heart thuds in her chest as she licks her lip, hands reaching forward to touch him. 

But Harry grabs her hands to stop her.

Hermione looked at him. "Harry?"

"No," he shakes his head at her. "I want to make you feel good."

"But Harry, I already--you haven't," Hermione stutters to get the words out, but Harry just places another kiss against her lips. 

"No, Hermione," he says against her lips, the words vibrating against her. "This is about you; about making sure you feel appreciated, good, and sexy."

It's what he tells her, but the truth is that this is all he can really take is touching her, making _her_ feel good. Because if Hermione touches him, or Merlin forbids, puts her _mouth_ on him, Harry doesn't think he can let Ron even have the chance to get Hermione back.

His bare cock pushes against her thigh, and Hermione does feel sexy because it's so clear that Harry is turned on by her. 

Harry presses open-mouthed kisses on her neck. 

"So? Do you feel appreciated?" Harry whispers between each kiss. 

And Hermione struggles to desperately say yes, that at least her body does by him. But all she can let out is a whimper and place her arms around his neck. 

Harry nudges her legs open with his thigh, settling between them before he lines up his cock and grinds against her with nothing to hold them back. He lets out a groan along with Hermione, her wetness covering him as he continues to thrust against her. 

It feels so good, Hermione thinks, her hips meeting his grinding rhythm. She can feel that tight feeling working itself in her stomach again, more desperately this time. 

Harry's breath is shallow as he lowers one hand down between them to grab himself. He pushes the tip of cock right against Hermione's clit, enjoying the way she let out a strangled moan against his lips. 

He feels hot against her as he drags his tip down her entire length a few times, pausing for just a second when he reaches her entrance, letting the pressure build. 

"Harry," Hermione keens. "I...I really...I need..." 

Hermione doesn't ever remember being a stuttering mess her whole life. 

"Are you sure?" Harry mumbles against her lips.

_"Yes,"_ Hermione hisses, hips budging against him as she feels him pass over her clit again. "I want it, I want _you._ "

The words, _those words_ , are all it takes for Harry to slide in her, kissing her fiercely to swallow the sound she makes at him entering her. 

Harry bottoms out easily with how wet Hermione is. The feeling settles too well, too perfectly, and Harry pulls back with a groan.

_"Fuck, Hermione,"_ he bites her bottom lip. "You feel so good, _so tight._ " 

Hermione both flushes and keens at the words. She feels so full as he stretches her, filling her, and every time he moves, it sends a shiver of pleasure through her body. 

When she wraps her legs around him, he moans in her mouth, and it makes Hermione feel titillating that she can make him feel this good too. 

The pace starts slow and steady, nothing but the sound of their bodies moving and pants. But soon, the pace picks up as Harry thrusts roughly into her, the waves of pleasure hitting her unrelentingly. She can't stop moaning, kissing him, tasting him as she takes him. 

Harry feels like he's going to lose his mind. Absolutely just lose it because Hermione feels too good. Everything about her is good. Her smell, her sounds, her soft skin. She's clutching onto him for dear life as he thrusts.

A bead of sweat works its way down his back as he tries to hold in his oncoming release. 

Harry suddenly pulls out, Hermione whining as he does. He flips Hermione over onto her stomach, using his hands as he spreads her wide before he thrusts back into her hard.

_"Oh, god, Harry!"_ Hermione cries, feeling him deeper from behind. Harry's got her pressed into the bed as he, for the lack of a better word, _fucks_ her.

He thrusts quick and hard, one arm wrapped around her as the other one moves her hair aside. He presses his mouth against her shoulder blade, sucking at the skin and leaving visible welts of pleasure there. 

"Harry, I'm--I'm so close..." Hermione's breath is hitched as her body shakes from his drives and her attempt to meet his rhythm.

"Me too," he whispers in her ear, biting at her lobe and earning himself another moan.

He refuses to come first before she does again, though. His hand snakes under her body, moving down until he reaches her clit, pressing against it with gentle pressure, and Hermione completely falls over the edge. The sound she releases is something that Harry doesn't think he'll ever forget. 

Her walls clench and pulsate around him, and Harry's thrusts become more jarred and messy until he follows her off the edge. Hermione feels hot ropes of his cum shooting inside her, and it sinfully feels too good as she presses back against him, taking it all in. 

Her back goes cold as she tries to come back to reality. She feels nearly boneless as Harry presses tender kisses along her back as he slowly softens inside her. When he pulls out of her, Hermione moans at the feeling and loss. 

Harry nudges her until she's on her back, brushing her damp hair behind her ear. He's sweaty too, and it's just something about how he looks that Hermione lifts her arms until her hand is at the back of his neck, nudging him down for another kiss that tastes slightly salty from their sweat.

She's about to let him go, but he bites her bottom lip in a warning.

"I'm not done with you," he rasps against her. "Just give me a moment."

"Harry..." she murmurs, wanting to tell him that it's okay, she gets it, but Harry sucking at the junction between her jawline and neck again.

"The hour isn't close to being over."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷∞⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The sun will soon be rising.

Harry stayed awake, softly admiring Hermione as the hour comes to an end. She's finally asleep with her back to him, naked under the covers with the blanket covering her shoulders. 

He gently lifts his hand to caress her bare shoulder. The blanket lifts, and he gets a view of the love bites he's left on her shoulder, trailing down her back. Harry doesn't doubt her font looks marked up as well. 

Hermione's still warm, and now Harry knows she's soft too. He closes his eyes, trying to imprint in his mind the way she looked when she came undone underneath him multiple times. The moment is ending, and Harry doubts he'll get to touch Hermione in such an intimate way again. 

A fleeting feeling of petty justice passes him when he thinks about Ron eventually returning for Hermione. Stupidly, lucky Ron, who will get to touch Hermione perhaps for the rest of their lives if he pulls his head out of his arse. And since a bloke like Ron gets that, at least Harry had her first--as stupid and caveman as it sounds. 

Harry quietly sighs, leaning close to her as he presses against her naked back, kissing the junction between her neck and shoulder gently. Hermione stirs slightly, mumbling something that suspiciously sounds like his name, but doesn't wake. 

Trailing his fingers down her arms, then her side, Harry can feel his wards wearing off, and he knows the hours is over. He gets up, his hand sliding underneath the pillow to grab the locket as he puts it back on along with his glasses. The weight returns to his body, but he doesn't mind as he can still feel the ghost of Hermione in his hands. 

Carefully, he crawls over Hermione to not wake her as his feet touch the cold ground. He grabs his clothes, putting them back on quietly. Harry glances at her one last time, slight contentment falling over him that she's sleeping peacefully for once. Harry decides he'll take the next shift so she can keep sleeping. 

It's the least he could do for all she's done for him. 

Harry doesn't quite want to go back out. Because here, in the tent and next to Hermione, he can pretend that she's his. 

Harry lowers himself into a squat as he folds his arms at the edge of the bed, resting his chin on it as he gazes at her face. 

Hermione is just lovely. 

It's just for a moment, Harry tells himself. 

Just a moment. 


End file.
